Whitechapel Autumn
by Writing Cat And Dog
Summary: Jack the Ripper Torchwood AU. Janto and Owento
1. Chapter 1

Friday 31st, August 1888

3:50

Shadows dripped like candle wax from the eaves of the house, running down the wall and into the cobblestone street. A lantern flickered above the doorway, illuminating the gruesome scene below.

A women, probably in her late twenty's, lay spread out over the doorstep, her face ghostly white. Her throat was jaggedly cut open, the blood still spilling out, contrasting beautifully with her skin. Her abdomen had been carved open and her guts were on display as if someone had been looking for something inside of her. Many other incisions were made on her soft belly, each cut gleamed crimson in the moonlight. Her gold-spun hair was positioned carefully around her face, peaceful in death.

She had been found this way by some street urchin that ran to the nearest police station shouting, "Murder!"

So now, Detective Inspector Jones stooped over the body, clutching his overcoat close to ward off the cold. His breath ghosted between full lips in the early morning chill and his head was covered with a bowler hat. Piercing blue eyes stared intently at the corpse.

"What was her name?" He directed this question to Officer Williams who was behind him.

"Nichols, Sir. Mary Ann Nichols." Williams replied, his thick Welsh accent skipping over vowels.

Jones nodded thoughtfully, "And she worked in Buck's Row, did she?"

"As a prostitute, yes Sir."

Jones sighed and glanced around the crime scene, "And you're sure nobody disturbed the scene?"

"As sure as I can be."

A steady dripping sound could be heard from somewhere in the alley. Moonlight slowly faded to sunlight and the streets of the East End of London began to wake.

"Alright, load her up." Jones ordered the surrounding officers who jumped to obey him. He stood and faced Williams. "We'll have Harper take a look at her. Should be an interesting first case for him."

Williams frowned, "I'd heard you two didn't get along that well."

"Yeah, but he's the best damned doctor we got."

Jones stayed for a few more minutes, glancing around at the scene of the murder, trying to take in as much as he could for he knew the press would be there soon and ruin the integrity of the crime scene.

When he was satisfied with what he had memorized, he joined Williams in the carriage and headed to the police station.

...

Dr. Owen Harper hated his job.

The pay was shit, the work was hard, and he currently was elbows deep in the fetid bowels of an elderly man trying to find a scalpel he had dropped because his hands had been slippery with blood.

He had just removed the better half of a blackened liver he needed when the Head of H Department strolled into the dead room as if it was his own.

"Harper, I have a case for you."

Owen sighed at the clear lack of respect. "It's Dr. Harper to you, Jones. And I'm a bit busy."

Jones wrinkled his nose at the smell of several different types of bodily fluids. "Whatever you're doing, this is vastly more important."

Owen put down the intestines he had in his hands and gave up on ever recovering the scalpel. "All right. It better be good."

Jones rolled his eyes, damn he was good at that, and strode from the room, expecting Owen to follow. Which he did, but not until he washed his hands throughly.

The doctor finally caught up to the detective in the cold, filthy morgue where Jones was staring thoughtfully at the dead women on the slab who had been mutilated thoroughly. Owen whistled at the sight, "Damn."

"Her name is Mary Ann Nichols. She was found on Buck's Row in this state, still bleeding out."

Owen approached the slab, "Whoever did this had some professional training, look at the cut on her throat. Severed the carotid clean through. Brutal. Horrible, that is."

Jones hovered behind him, watching his every move. Owen usually made some remark at how masterful the killing was, but even he seemed to be taken aback at the brutality.

"Anything else?' Jones asked, taking a step back as Owen took a scalpel out of a nearby drawer.

"I let you know when I finish the autopsy." Owen replied as he positioned the knife over the woman's breast bone, motioning with his free hand for Ianto to leave.

Ianto did. Gladly.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

...

Once Ianto had left, Owen took his largest scalpel and made a Y-shaped incision on the dead woman's body. The arms of the Y extended from the front of each shoulder to the bottom end of the breast bone, diverting beneath the breasts, so the "Y" had curved arms. He didn't have to cut the end of the Y since the killer had. The cut was deep, going down to the rib cage and completely through the abdominal wall below that.

He then peeled the skin, muscle, and soft tissues off of her chest with another scalpel. When he finished, he pulled the chest flap upward over her face, so the front of the rib cage and the strap muscles of the front of the neck lay exposed. He wrinkled his nose as the smell of raw meat assailed him.

He used a saw to open the rib cage. One cut was made up each side of the front of the rib cage, so that the chest plate, consisting of the sternum and the ribs which connected to it, was no longer attached to the rest of the skeleton. The chest plate was pulled back and peeled off with a little help from the scalpel, which he used to dissect the adherent soft tissues stuck to the back of the chest plate. After the chest plate has been removed, Owen could see the inner organs. His dissection began at the neck and proceeded downward, so that eventually all the organs were removed from the body in one piece.

The first thing Owen did was identify the carotid and subclavian arteries in the neck and upper chest. The carotid had been cut clean through by the same knife that had made the slits on the woman's abdomen.

He then removed all the organs and the brain, leaving the body an empty shell. The body looked like the hull of a ship under construction, the prominent ribs resembling the corresponding structural members of the ship.

After he had completed the autopsy, he left the dead room to find Jones, but was told by Officer Williams that the Detective Inspector had gone back to Buck's Row to interrogate anyone who could have possible seen the killer.

Owen sighed deeply and donned his coat before leaving to go tell the DI his findings.

...

As soon as his tired feet stepped over the worn welcome mat, Ianto could smell the stench of sweat and sex emitting from the corridor before him. It was still early in the morning, but the tarts of Buck's Row were already hard at work pleasing their male customers.

The DI took off his hat and held it by his side as a lady, dressed in nothing but a red and black corset and thin petticoats, approached him.

"How do ya do, mister? What can I do for you?" The lady asked, swishing her skirts provocatively.

Ianto pulled his credentials out of his pocket and flashed the piece of paper at her, "Detective Inspector Jones, miss. I'm here about one of your girls."

The lady looked nervous, "What do ya need to know?"

Ianto cleared his throat, "Let's just start with your name."

"Cooper. Gwen Cooper."

Ianto nodded. "And do you know a girl by the name of Mary Ann Nichols?"

Gwen looked down, "Did something happen to her? She wasn't here this morning and I was worried..."

"I'm sorry to say this, but she's been killed."

Gwen sighed and motioned for Ianto to sit. "So I feared, when one of my girls doesn't come back the worst is bound to have happened. It's a hard life, this one, Detective."

"So I've seen. Are there any customers that would have wanted to do Mary harm? Anyone you can think of?"

Gwen's mouth narrowed and she crossed her leg over her knee, "There is one man. No name, but we call him Leather Apron. Just a moniker one of the girls gave him."

"What is it about this man that you would think he would kill her?" Ianto asked, leaning back in the plush chair.

"He extorts us." Gwen's voice tightened, "Fucks us, then takes what little money we have. Cruel man."

"Can you describe him?"

Gwen nodded, "Yes. Seedy looking, unshaven. Blonde hair with long sideburns and thin blue eyes."

Ianto replaced his hat and stood, "Thank you ma'm, you've been very helpful. We'll keep a lookout for this Leather Apron."

Gwen smiled sadly, "Anything to catch him. Mary was like a sister to me."

Ianto tipped his hat and started to leave when another man entered the brothel.

He was tall, with dark hair and a smile that could capture any girl's heart. His greatcoat swished behind him dramatically as his sauntered toward the Detective.

"Jones, what a surprise!" The man said, grinning.

"Harkness." Ianto replied, less than happy at the reporter's presence, "What are you doing here? This is police business."

Jack shrugged, "Just doing a little research. You don't mind do you?"

Ianto glared at him. "Actually, I do mind. Time for you to leave." He grabbed Jack's arm and dragged him out the door with him, depositing him on the doorstep when the door closed behind them.

"Aww, Ifan. You ruin all of my fun." Jack pouted and glanced up with wide blue eyes.

Ianto frowned at him, "Don't call me that. And you need to stop poking around police stuff, I can't keep you out of jail forever."

Jack stood up and brushed off his coat, "I know that, but I have a job to do as well."

Ianto sighed and turned his back on Jack, "See you at home, Jack."

"See you at home."

...

Owen caught Ianto on Whitechapel Road as he neared the police station.

"Jones!" The doctor called out, trotting to catch up with the moody Detective, "I finished the autopsy."

Ianto stopped and let Owen catch up with him, "What did you find? Be quick about it."

Owen took a deep breath and began to speak, "Well, the same knife was used for all the cuts, I'd say it was of medium size. The cuts are precise, nearing perfection. The work of someone with skill."

"So we can assume he's middle to upper class? Someone with enough money to go to school?"

"Maybe. There are other ways to learn such things than through money. He cut through her abdominal wall, but only across half her stomach. Almost like he was interrupted."

Ianto nodded, "Interesting, continue."

"Her uterus was disturbed, but still intact, which fits with the theory of him being interrupted. The cut through her neck went deep as well, going way past the carotid. He had some power in him."

"Had she been... used?"

Owen nodded, "Not minutes before her death."

Ianto stopped in the middle of the street and faced Owen, "So he has her, then he kills her. The woman running the brothel said that there was a man who was extorting prostitutes for their money after having them. Maybe Nichols refused to pay up."

"It's a good lead." Owen said.

"Just about the only one we have." Ianto replied.


	3. Chapter 3

After tacking the description of the suspect up on the case board, it was time for Ianto to return home for the evening. He bid goodnight to Officer Williams and the policemen that manned the front desk, donned his hat and coat, and left the precinct.

Many Detectives of London rode home in carriages pulled by brown horses, but Ianto prefered to walk the streets. His streets.

As the sun sank below the horizon, casting orange and pink streaks across the ever-darkening sky, he strode down Whitechapel District. Home was about eight blocks away from the precinct, about twenty minutes of pushing his way through the bustling streets. It seemed as if the District got even busier after the sun went down, the streets were packed with tarts and shady characters scurrying about. Most of the people hurried away at the sight of him, his face well known around these parts. Ianto didn't mind, it was good that they were afraid of him. They should be.

As he approached his flat, he steeled himself and took a deep breath before unlocking the door and going inside.

"I'm home!" He shouted, locking the door behind him. Removing his coat and hat, he placed them on a hook by the door where a familiar blue greatcoat already hung. He could hear footsteps in the other room and the clattering of pots and pans. Ducking his head around the corner, Ianto observed the man in their kitchen as he puttered about making dinner. The man was taller, with broad muscular shoulders and a clean-shaven face. He was handsome, that was for sure, and his smile as he saw Ianto was charming with a hint of seduction.

"Hello, Jack." Ianto said tiredly, approaching his lover and practically falling into his arms. Jack put down the pan he was holding and began rubbing Ianto's back with his large, ink-stained hands.

"I made you dinner," Jack whispered into his ear before releasing him and beckoning him into the dining room where the table was set with a full meal. They sat down across from each other and began to eat, Ianto practically attacking the food.

Jack chowed down at a more measured pace, pausing to ask Ianto about his day.

"Uneventful." Ianto answered stiffly.

Jack laughed, "You just know I'll publish whatever you tell me. You're finally starting to learn me. But I've learned you as well. YOu have satisfaction in your eyes, and a twinkle of excitement. You're onto something, I know it."

"Indeed you're right. I am satisfied to be home and excited about what we're going to do after supper."

"Oh, you beast. You're going to get it!" Jack chuckled.

"I hope so."

When they were finished, Jack cleared away the table. Then he approached Ianto and put a finger beneath his chin so that the Welshman would look up. Ianto stood to look at him for a moment then grabbed his face and kissed him.


End file.
